Letting Go
by Jubchili
Summary: Nat hasn't seen Clint since the fight against Ultron. After all that's happened, she needs to let go of him once and for all.
1. Letting

**Clintasha post AoU drabble.**

**Egad this movie just makes me want to cry. It was amazing and yet had a lot of negative points - both from a subjective and objective point of view. Bleh I won't elucidate, but as a Clintasha shipper I need to concoct some shit to make me feel better after all these chemistry-less ships...**

**(I also ship Winter Widow so basically if that happens I will be very happy)**

* * *

Natasha POV:

In the aftermath of the battle, I'd forgotten to see how Clint was doing. Wanda had told me that he'd wanted to see me in the medical bay. That's where they were holding Pietro. He was still inside the tissue regeneration pod with unstable vitals. Clint and Steve had barely managed to keep him alive during their transport from the city. Considering the damage Fury had taken and still survived - there was hope for Pietro still, and Wanda was happy for it.

Clint was still there, sitting beside the glass pod, watching intently as it completed it's work - just as it had for him before the battle. It was ironic that Pietro was the one in the pod, since he was the one who'd put Clint there in the first place. Karmic justice you could say, although too much of it in this case.

By the door I stood still and silent, trying hard not to disturb him in his reverie. But of course, Clint being Clint knew I was there almost right away. I smiled a small, broken smile... the best I could manage under the circumstances...

He turned back to Pietro and I stayed by the door. In each other's silent company we were more than comfortable. I'd shared many an aftermath with him, but mostly for small covert missions where we had only each other to confide in and go to for support. Him more so than I. I'd been trained to have nerves of steel in almost all situations, except when I was with him. Something always made me let down my guard when Clint came into the picture. He needed my shoulder more than I needed his in the end. He had more to lose.

"I noticed you added a name beside 'Nathaniel'..." I smiled and strode towards him when he glanced back at me.

I squeezed his shoulder and he squeezed my hand in return.

"Two of the bravest people I've ever known, I guess..."

"It was good seeing Laura. The kids seemed well..." This was an awkward subject between Clint and I - Laura and his family.

When we went to his house to take shelter, I was mentally prepared to face his wife and children, but Clint didn't seem to think I'd be. That's why I'd started my seduction of Bruce much earlier. It was something we both had to learn to endure - Clint and I, I mean.

"Yes, they're all great. Man, I was so scared Nat... when Ultron was shooting at me. Damn, if it wasn't for the Maximoff punk I'd be... They'd be..." Clint lips pursed into a wavering line, unable to finish the sentence.

"Don't think like that, Clint. You aren't dead and they aren't alone. This guy," I knocked the glass twice with my finger, "saved you and that kid. It worked out that way, there's no what if. All right?"

"Yeah, yeah okay" Clint half smiled and stood up. He strode to my side and peered through the glass at the unconscious Maximoff twin. "Damn, you'd better wake up punk, or I'll have to kill you..."

Both of us half smiled, and we said nothing for a while.

"So..." Clint cut through the silence like a knife through butter. "You and Banner... that's new" He laughed, an actual laugh not just a giggle or chuckle.

"Yeah well," I turn to him and put on a sarcastic air, "I had to do _something_ to show you I'd moved on" I smiled to cover up the awkwardness of the statement, but I'm sure he saw right through it.

"Well if you had to do _something, _you could have at least picked Rogers, or even this punk right here" He knocked on the glass.

I laughed. A deep and hearty one. And he was smiling. A real and broad one. Damn, how I missed these moments. Smiling and laughing with Clint like we hadn't just nearly died a few hours ago. It was always this easy with him.

"Rogers is too old school. And Ihaven't even exchanged a single word with _this punk"_ I knocked on the glass more dramatically than he had, and we laughed again.

"Okay fine, valid reasons. But seriously, Banner?" He raised an eyebrow and broke out into hysterics. Between each fit of laughter he managed to get out a few words. "Like - damn - Nat, I wouldn't have guessed - you picking - a - dorky nerd" He was leaning on the side of the pod and wiping fake tears from his eyes for effect.

I smiled, showing all my teeth, and headed for the door. Stopping in the doorway I glanced over my shoulder at him.

"I picked you, didn't I? Dorky nerd" I smirked.

"Hey Nat, I'm a lean mean killing machine, and don't you forget it" He pointed at me dramatically and raised both eyebrows. My smirk turned into a chuckle.

I waved at him without looking back.

I kept walking straight on, not worrying about where I was headed. I needed to keep myself moving. When I finally turned a corner, my hand went straight up to my mouth to silence a sob. I leaned against the wall and let my weight collapse on me.

On my knees now, I can't breathe without letting the sobs out. So I don't. I lift myself up high enough to open the door I'm leaning against and scramble into the room, slamming the door shut once I'm inside.

Damn. I'm a complete mess.

Finally my hand drops from my mouth and I breathe deeply. Tears trail down my face; gladly I'm silent as they do.

When Clint and I had been together - sometime after he'd decided to recruit me for S.H.I.E.L.D. instead of killing me like he was ordered - I hadn't known about his family. I assumed that he'd have told me, or made some subtle mention of it to inform me. I wouldn't have pursued him if I'd known.

When I found out, I did a good job of acting like it was no big deal. He and I never talked about it, and we stayed separated for a long time, together only during missions - strictly professional.

We were together one time after that, just after the battle of New York. He thought Laura and the kids were dead because some of the Chitauri had managed to reach that area, according to incoming reports from our surveillance teams. He came to me in tears and I did my best to tell him everything was going to be all right. We stayed together that night, laying in each other's arms silently.

The next morning Director Fury sent a report to Clint, confirming that his family was alive and well. He came to me later that day and told me about it. I tried so hard to hide the pain, and I would have succeeded if he hadn't told me that we were done.

After I'd found out, both of us had made a silent agreement to remain strictly professional. There had been no exchange of words, and when he'd finally said it, that we were done, I couldn't deal with it.

But I had to, so I did.

From that day I began planning my seduction of Bruce Banner. I'd never even considered Steve. He was too distrusting of me, and firm in his righteous beliefs. I couldn't taint him with a lie like that. He was, and still is, too pure; too innocent; to trusting of this world. If I'd known this Maximoff was going to drop in, I might have stalled and seduced him. That'd be more believable, considering what a dish he was. But that didn't matter now, because my ploy had worked. Banner was tangled in my web of deception, and it surprisingly hurt me to play him like that. But I had to. I had to or else I'd break.

I laugh at my predicament. My love for Clint is pure and nascent, and to get away from it I need to spin a web of lies - not to convince him, but _myself _that I am done with him.

When I called Clint my 'best friend' in front of Banner, I was hoping that Clint was awake, hearing my words and seeing how hard I was trying to make us both happy. It hurt like hell to get those words out, but when I did, I felt somehow lighter; like I'd jumped a high hurdle in this race. The race to my freedom from this burden.

Damn. I'm way too sentimental sometimes.

For about an hour I don't bother moving. Wanda is probably looking for me, or Steve. We have to brief the new Avengers on their training schedules. How tedious.

My eyes are still red and my face is still tear-stained when I finally leave. While on my way to my room, I double back and find myself heading towards Steve's. Maybe using his shoulder will make it hurt less.

* * *

Clint POV:

When Natasha leaves I sigh heavily. I felt like I'd been holding my breath the entire time she was here. I'm not glad that she'd left, just relieved that I don't have to keep up appearances.

Meeting my family was a drastic measure, one I was sure I'd never risk, but I ended up risking it anyways. All for Nat.

Nat's condition was horrifying, as were the rest's, but hers more so considering her turbulent past. I couldn't think of any place safer than Laura's. It was a stupid, thoughtless move.

I hadn't considered at all how she would feel once we got there. But she'd handled it a lot better than I thought she would. I'd taken her there several times before; to meet my family, and also as a safe house between missions. All the times we'd been there together, she didn't waver for a second, or let slip even a tiny clue about me and her.

I was stupid to have even been involved with her in the first place. I wasn't even married to Laura at the time, but that didn't make it any less wrong.

What was the reason for it anyway. I was young and stupid and looking for a challenge. Ha, what valid reasons I put forth.

Damn me.

I'd ruined both our lives by refusing to let slip that detail.

"Ah yeah, Natasha, by the way, I've got a girlfriend"

Imagine what we could have avoided if I'd said just one simple insignificant sentence. Pretty less complicated that's for sure. I space out, remembering all the things we shared, Nat and I. If I'd said what I should have, we would never have shared any of that. I don't think I want to lose those memories, even if that's all they'll ever be...

During the battle, when Nat was M.I.A., I couldn't stop worrying about her. I was yelling her name through the coms, and when she didn't answer I felt like my heart had stopped. I wanted to go in and extract her myself, but I was needed with the twins. It was meddlesome, and I wanted to see her, but Banner went. He was probably the best choice considering his new relationship with Nat.

I can't help but laughing. In no existing universe (except this one apparently) would Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff get together to do the do. Not that I knew if they'd done that already. How does Bruce even do that stuff... I probably shouldn't think about that.

I look back at the pod in which Pietro's sleeping - for lack of a better word.

"There's another thing on my conscience" I huff in annoyance.

This job used to be so easy. Well as easy as killing got. Why couldn't people just use old fashioned guns? Or better yet, a bow and arrow. Even a broadsword wouldn't be so bad.

I end up meeting Wanda on my way out of the medical bay. We share a silent nod of greeting before parting ways. We've grown closer because of her brother, but I doubt any friendship will last between us. I know she resents me for putting Pietro in this position despite it being his choice to do so.

Damn me. Damn this. I should quit. I really should quit. I punch the wall in frustration, unaware of a pair of eyes on me.

It's Rogers.

"Frustrated, Agent Barton?" He leans against the wall I'd just punched, his hands in his pockets. Not fazed at all. His expression is generally neutral.

"I should really get a desk job" I joke and lean against the wall in a similar casual fashion.

"We all really should" He sighs and walks over to me. I stand up straight and face him. He puts a friendly hand of my shoulder and smiles.

"But the world needs us. It needs you, an Avenger" With a final pat, he's off.

I stand in the same place for a while, not bothering with Rogers' preaching. Figures he'd take it seriously. I chuckle at his gullibility. What a guy. Nat would definitely not be able to swindle him, no matter how hard she tried.

Thinking of Nat gets me irritated again. I need to let off some steam. This whole Nat and Pietro thing is too troublesome to handle without a few explosions in the background to clear my mind.

* * *

**Well I'm not a very good writer now that I've reviewed my work. I really can't get Nat's essence can I?**

**Constructive criticism and feedback appreciated, thanks.**


	2. Go

**A sequel chapter because bleh. And I wanna try writing Steve POV.**

* * *

Steve POV:

Barton seemed on edge when I saw him by the med-bay. I don't blame him, considering the past couple of days. We've all had it rough, especially him and Stark. After Thor left things quieted down a bit. Falcon and the rest of the new squad are taking all the time in the world to get to know each other. It's good to have him on the team, now that I think about it. We'll have more chances to gather intel regarding Bucky's whereabouts.

This new Avengers' facility that Stark's constructed is proving to be quite convenient. We're all starting to become more of a team than before, when we were - to quote Dr. Banner, 'a time bomb' - just waiting to explode in everyone's faces.

Stark and I had seen Thor before he space warped back to Asgard. I don't think he's going to be coming back for a while. I'm still pretty miffed about not being able to lift that hammer. Natasha was the only one, other than Agent Hill, who didn't give it a try that night of their victory party.

Ha, some victory. That party seemed like it happened a whole life time ago.

Speaking of Natasha, I haven't seen her since we met with the new Avengers. We're supposed to be giving them their briefing soon. I'll probably just check in on her.

* * *

Natasha POV:

When I finally reach Steve's room - I say finally because Stark saw it fit to give the leader of The Avengers an entire ward to himself which is situated at the opposite end of the compound - he isn't there. I heave a sigh and flop down on his bed, which is so tiny it seems a miracle he can even fit on it. I roll over and stare at the ceiling for minutes that seem like hours.

At the moment, Steve would probably be with Stark doing god only knows what. Probably seeing Thor off. The Asgardian had finally decided to return home, which made the entire compound seem to quiet down a whole lot. He was pretty rambunctious compared to the rest of us, and was always getting excited over little earth things that they didn't have on Asgard - like cable TV and hair gel.

Damn, when will he be back. Now I'm feeling stupid...

I sit up, cross my legs, and place my hands in my lap. My back is hunched partly with weariness and partly with laziness. After a while I pull my arms around me and hug myself. It's a kiddish thing to do, but it's cold and I'm a wreck. Might as well.

* * *

Steve POV:

When I find Natasha's room empty, I decide to head back to mine. Sam said he'd left a few files regarding Bucky's time in cryo-freeze that were worth looking over. I didn't have high hopes, but it was something, which as they say is always better than nothing.

I reach my door, but almost immediately something feels amiss. The door is cracked open, and I distinctly remember closing it before I left this morning. My back to the door, I cautiously open it, expecting some sort of mayhem to ensue - explosions, gunfire, a knife, something.

"Relax Rogers, I don't bite" Natasha's muffled voice sounds dry and rueful, more so than usual.

"Damn" I mumble, opening the door completely so you can see where she is. "You scared the shit out of-" I see her sitting on my bed, hugging her knees like a lost child.

"...me"

"Language" She says listlessly. The air around us thickens.

"Do you want me to call Barton?" I raise an eyebrow at her quizzically, approaching slowly - despite her assurance that she wouldn't bite.

She glares daggers at me and I stop in my tracks, putting my hands up defensively. She pats a spot on the bed beside her and scoots over to give me place. I sit beside her but avoid any physical contact, not sure if she is here to vent or yell or something entirely different.

"So...uh... How is the twin doing? I passed the med-bay but didn't check in"

"He's fine. Well as fine as completely perforated with bullets can be"

"Yeah... well. Fury's survived worse"

"True"

Silence hangs between us. I feel like I should say something but then Natasha leans her head against my shoulder. She's staring at the wall in front of us, which has a corkboard filled with all the intel Sam and I'd managed to gather - pictures, reports, sightings, news articles. Anything and everything.

"He's close. In New York"

"What? How do you know?" Suddenly I'm acutely aware of her.

Her weight on my shoulder, locks of hair that fall against my arm, her drier than usual voice, it is softer too. Usually I'm always weary of Natasha, but this time she seems different, almost _open._

"I know him well enough to know he's here; looking for you"

Her words fill my mind. I'm about to jump up and run straight to Sam but she grabs my wrist. Not grabs, more like, gently holds? I'm not sure what Natasha even classifies as gentle, but that was definitely it. A feather touch.

I'm not sure what she's trying to do. How am I supposed to explain _politely _that she isn't my type without getting her sad? Damn.

I open my mouth to say something but before I get the words out she lifts my arm by my wrist and puts it around her. Her head settles against my chest and my hand automatically falls to her waist. I'm too stunned to move so I just stay as still as possible.

"Relax Rogers, I'm not trying to seduce you. I just need a friend"

I'm quite sure my face is a faint shade of pink right now at her statement about seducing me. Nevertheless I'm surprised. I never thought of a scenario where Natasha took my statement about us being friends seriously. Apparently it was possible after all.

"Is that what we are now?" I smirk, and the strangeness of the situation seems to pass.

"Isn't that what you wanted me to be?" She turns her face inward so her cheek is against me, so her voice is slightly muffled by the end of her sentence.

"Well I never thought you'd actually cash in the friend card" I chuckle, and I feel her smile against me.

"Sorry if it's at an inconvenient time"

"Not at all. I'm pretty happy, actually. Are you going to elucidate or are we just going to sit like this till you feel better?"

She laughs, "Whatever you prefer, Captain"

"Elucidate"

* * *

Steve POV continued:

And so she did.

She tells me everything - start to finish - about her relationship with Agent Barton. How they'd broken it off when she found out about his girlfriend, now wife, Laura; everything since; during The Avengers initiative; and finally, the battle against Ultron. It takes some time to get through everything because once in a while she tears up, or has to steel herself before continuing.

After she's done she sighs heavily and grumbles.

"I need to let go, Steve"

I notice it's the first time she's called me by my name during this entire encounter.

"Think about what you want to let go of, Natasha" Gradually I lean back till we're both lying on the bed.

"Do you want to let go of Barton? Or your old relationship with him?"

"I don't know" Her voice is less dry than before, and I heave a sigh of relief. Her head rises and falls with my chest.

"It's your choice, but from what you've told me, you shouldn't let go of him. In fact, hold on to him as tightly as possible Nat"

I think we both noticed that I'd used 'Nat' for the first time. I'm surprised how comfortable she is with this, then again, she's Natasha Romanoff, Queen of Improv. Come to think of it, I'm surprised how comfortable _I _am with this. I'd always assumed the only time I'd be like this was with Peggy. Funny how things work out - a 90 year old soldier who's never been on a date in his life giving relationship advice to a 20-something assassin-turned-agent-turned-Avenger.

Suddenly Natasha gets up, startling me. She hops of the bed and runs a hand through her hair. I sit up and she turns around.

"Well thanks for the chat. I'm going to break in the kids" She's back to her usual aloof, I-don't-give-a-care attitude. Her voice is guarded, as is her stance.

"Wait, Natasha" I grab her wrist before she has the chance to scurry away.

"You said he's in New York? Any idea where?"

"Sorry Cap, can't help you with that" I release her hand and she's out the door faster than I can say 'Well that isn't very helpful'

* * *

**A bit too Romanoger-y? Yeah I think so too.**


End file.
